


How To Say I Love You

by lizzybizzyzzz



Series: 5+1 [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Crying, Fix-It, Gen, Happy Ending, Past Character Death, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, The Author Regrets Everything, There's a lot of crying, Time Skips, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, sorry for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:46:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19007944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzybizzyzzz/pseuds/lizzybizzyzzz
Summary: ... or 6 times Tony doesn't tell Peter he loves him and one time he does.





	How To Say I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> thought's you'd fucking seen the last of me huh
> 
> THIS IS A FIC WRITTEN OFF OF ALMOST EVERY SCREEN MOMENT W/ TONY AND PETER and altered to be more irondad ur welcome fuckers enjoy 
> 
> SPOILERS

 

_1._

  


Tony’s eyes flit around the room before spitting the monstrosity out into the kid’s dainty trash can and _God-_ he will be funding Parker’s wardrobe _and_ bedroom remodel because well… it’s sad. The kid’s room has nothing in it but a dart board and a half-lit lamp.

 

“As walnut-date loaves go, that wasn’t bad.” Tony catches his eye and is amused to see the flicker of outlandishness. He turns to inspect the low-grade, outdated computers and such on the desk behind him. Peter’s still a little star-struck but he plays that off well too, mind the stuttering. “Oh. what do we have here, retro tech. Thrift store?” He guesses, gesturing to the old pieces of tech. “Salvation Army?”

 

“I-uh-The garbage, actually.”

 

Tony faces Parker and lifts his chin a little. This kid is already more interesting than hald of the people he’s ever met. Tony wants to pull him apart and analyze him like he does with circuit board wires. “You’re a dumpster diver.”

 

He looks embarrassed and Tony almost regrets commenting. “Yeah I was… An-nyway look um, I definitely did not apply for your grant-”

 

Tony _tsks_ at the teenager, who _does not_ like that gesture but keeps his mouth shut. “Me first. Quick question of the torakal variety.” He quickly pulls out his StarkPhone without breaking the boys’ eye contact. He looks scared and even without knowing the kid, Tony wants to wipe it all away. His body screams to protect where his mind tells his hands they shouldn’t cause more damage. “That’s you, right?”

 

The video shows the kid in front of his, this scrawny teenager swinging around on some type of material, webbing up a usual New York-brand car mugger. The kid gawks at him. “Um… no, whaddaya-whaddaya-”

 

“Yeah.” Tony says. “Look at you go.” He put fake enthusiasm into his next words. “Wow, nice catch! Three thousand pounds, forty miles an hour. It’s not easy.” Tony wants to lighten the kid’s discomfort in any way he can. Rhodey would howl at his lazy attempt. “You got mad skillz.”

 

Parker is frantic, full of nervous energy that makes Tony himself nervous. This is a _child_ , an enhanced child, but a child nonetheless. “That’s all- That’s all on YouTube though, right. I mean that’s where you found that because you know that’s all fake, it’s all done on a computer.”

 

Tony could easily shut him down, arrogantly snap at the kid for assuming so little of him. But he doesn't. Parker avoids his eyes as he tidies his desk for something to do and- _bingo._

 

He grabs a stick while the kid rambles to divert the man’s suspicions. “Yeah yeah yeah. Oh, you mean like those UFOs over Pheonix?”

 

“Exactly!”

 

There it is. The red and blue pajamas that the kid does all his vigilante work in and - _Jesus_ this cannot be safe. Parker jumps to throw it in his closet, leaning tensley against the white frame.

 

Tony walks over to him, lips parting in disbelief. The kid is _still_ trying to cover himself even though he has all the evidence. It’s a puzzle that Tony’s greedy fingers are itching to pull apart.

 

“So you’re the spider-ling… Crime-fighting spider… You’re Spider-boy?”

 

Parker sighs in defeat. “S-Spider-Man.”

 

Tony almost chuckles. “Not in that onesie you’re not.”

 

“S’ not a onesie,” he mutters, arms crossed over his chest. Tony notices that the boy stutters, whether it’s out of annoyance nerve or… something Tony can’t quite place. In all honesty the boy looks like a kicked puppy. “Couldn’t believe it but I was actually havin’ a really good day today, Mister Stark.” The formality make Tony want to roll his eyes. Instead, he investigates the webbing in front of him. Parker must have some kind of brain to have made this if it holds him up with the pressure of his swings. “Didn’t miss my train, perfectly good DVD player was just sittin’ there. Algebra test: nailed it.”

 

Tony admires that Parker keeps it together even as his voice trembles. He can already tell the kid’s got baggage to compete with his own. “Who else knows? Anybody?”

 

Just when Tony feels like it couldn’t get sadder, Parker replies with sad eyes. “Nobody.”

 

“Not even your unusually attractive aunt?”

 

As Parker rambles on, Tony can’t help but think that this teenager, this kid’s been alone for this long. He’d showed up on the man’s radar about a month ago when F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted him that there was a projectile with a heart signature near the penthouse.

 

Tony gets distracted with the design and finds the eye-piece funny even though he knows Parker would get butt-hurt over his amusement. He can’t help himself when he makes the joke, hoping to lighten the mood. It was a long shot. He holds the goggles over his eyes, tinted black almost thoroughly. “Can you even see in these? _I’m blind!_ ”

 

Parker rolls his eyes and snatches away the suit. “Yes, yes I can- I can see in those.” He explains his problem without giving anything away, either embarrassed or closed-off.

 

“Why’re you doin’ this?” Tony asks seriously. When Parker still looks dumbfounded he patiently explains. “I gotta know, what’s your M.O., what gets you outta that twin bed in the morning.”

 

Parker twitches restlessly and struggle to keep eye contact with him. Tony waits for his answer, already trying to detach himself from the kid in front of him. Tony didn’t want kids but he’d be damned if the one in front of his ever gets hurt again because of his negligence.

 

“Whell uh.. Because I been me my whole life, and I’ve had these powers for six months.” Tony nods for him to continue. “I read books, I build computers… and yeah, I would love to play football. But I-I didn’t then so I shouldn’t now.”

 

“Sure, cause you’re different.”

 

Parker gets a faraway look and stares at his floor. Tony’s mouth is dry in anticipation. The kid’s got some pretty good monologuing skills, the man will give him that.

 

“When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen… they happen because of you.”

 

Tony nods, the knot in his throat suddenly expanding. The kid is referencing something he’ll have to pry out with time. For now, he’s gentle. He forgets how fragile teenagers are, superhuman or not. His words pierce Tony’s skin like a thin blade and he has to look away.

 

They talk a little more. His confirmation is in tact- Parker is a kid. A very special kid that he could use. Tony wants this to be disposable, no string attached teammate situation. If only he knew how wrong he would eventually be. He slaps the kid on the back.

 

“Got a passport?”

 

 

_2._

 

 

For the first time in this entire battle, Tony is in real distress. Not just _fuck-they-broke-another-plane-that-I-have-to-pay-for_ its _FUCK-Parker-is-laying-on-the-ground-not-moving._ The kid _isn’t moving_ and it’s what worries him the most. Before the battle Parker’s hands shook with excitement and his mouth flew a mile a minute, so fast even Tony’s brain could hardly keep up. That kid is _never_ not moving.

 

Tony only hesitates for a minute after retracting his face mask to drop to his knees next to him, staring for any sign of life. He lets out a sigh when his eyes catch the small but noticeable chest movement. He’s _breathing_ at least.

 

“Kid, you alright?” He asks softly. Tony was unable to hide the worry in his voice.

It’s not there for long. Relief floods through him even as Parker swings at him. Tony catches his fists easily and squeezes his wrists for reassurance. “Whoa!”

 

Parker whines beneath him and struggles in his hold. Tony heart pangs in the fact that the kid looks so scared, so exhausted.  He thinks lowly that he should've made Happy enforce a stricter bedtime.

 

“Same side. Guess who. Hi, it’s me.”

 

Parker stops fighting Tony’s hold and lets out a large breath. His voice seems an octave higher and he guesses it’s from the pain. “Hey, man. That was scary.”

 

 _God,_ he sounds so fucking young it hurts. It echoes in Tony’s chest and will most likely stay there for a nice, long time.

 

“Yeah, you’re _done_ , all right?” Tony says gently. When Parker protests, he becomes firm. “You did a good job. Stay down.” _I can’t be responsible for your hurt,_ goes unsaid in Tony mind, but it’s too late. Parker winces and Tony _feels_ it. “Just- Just stay here, for me? Please?” He stresses.

 

Tony lets go of the boy’s wrists when he lets his head thunk on the concrete and stop fighting. “That’s it. Stay down, got it?”

 

Parker rolls his eyes but makes no attempt to move. “Got it,” he nods.

 

With one last glance, Tony snaps his face plate shut and turns away.

 

_3._

  


It was no secret that Peter pushes his buttons and _not_ in the good way. He’s too young to understand that Tony is trying to protect him with the distance between them, but the kid’s voice breaks him with the accusation.

 

“If you even cared you’d actually be here!” Peter challenges, backing up in fear when Tony does just that and steps out of the Iron Man suit.  

 

Tony scrunches his nose with a sniff as he stalks towards Peter much like a lion would to their prey. “I did listen, kid. Who do you think called the FBI, huh?” Albeit his anger, he keeps his voice controlled for now. There’s fear and sadness and pure frustration painted on the kid’s face that Tony wants so desperately to wash away. “Do you know that I was the only one who believed in you? Everyone else said I was crazy to recruit a fourteen year-old kid.”

 

“I’m fifteen.”

 

Tony snaps. “No, this is where you zip it, all right? The adult is talking. What if someone has died tonight? Different story, right, cause that’s on you.” He has to ignore the hurt written on Peter’s features if he wants to discipline the kid without killing his own mental stability. Memories of his father sounding _exactly_ like this haunts him but the fear of losing Peter pushes that back down. “And if you died… I feel like that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Peter nods frantically, voice wavering. “I’m sorry. I understand.”

 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Tony wishes it could. Wishes to make the kid’s pain go away but he’d rather have Peter hate him and live than have him love the man and die.

 

“I just wanted to be like you.”

 

“And I wanted you to be better.”

 

The air between them is thick. Peter looks ready to cry and Tony’s hand is shaking nonstop. The thought of losing this kid is unbearable, he refuses to do it. Tony watches him look away, tight jaw clenching in shame.

 

Tony can’t look at Peter. “Okay it’s not working out, I’m gonna need the suit back.”  

 

“For how long?”

 

“Forever.” Tony tells the spluttering teenager in front of him. “Yeah that’s how it works.”

 

Peter whines and he holds his stand. Tony will not get this kid killed, it’s too much lost potential. Too much pain in his youthful features, too much hurt. Their relationship won’t be the same after this, but at least Peter will be alive. It’s all he could hope for after everything.

 

“Please, this is all I have, I’m nothing without this suit.”

 

Tony narrows his eyes. “If you’re nothing without that suit, then you shouldn’t have it. Okay? God, I sound like my dad.”

 

He’s trying to teach the kid a lesson he had to learn the hard way. The destruction of the Iron Man suits, thinking he would be gone along with them was mere foreshadowing for when he had to force it upon someone less willing.

 

Peter swallows hard. “I don’t have any other clothes.”

 

“Okay we’ll sort that out.” Tony says gently. He wants desperately to hug the kid tight and wipe away his falling tears. Shush him and remind him that it'll all be okay, that mistakes happen to everyone.

 

He doesn't. Tony isn't his dad and Peter is not his son. So he watches the teenager pull himself together and hang his head against his chest in misery. Tony’s hand twitches the entire flight back.  


 

_4._

 

 

Tony is going to have a heart attack, especially with the pang he feels hearing that kid's voice on this damned ship. He lets his jaw drop open as Peter falls to the floor and retracts his helmet to reveal- yup, to reveal that he's an _idiot._

 

"I know what you're gonna say-"

 

Tony tips his chin down and looks into Peter's wide eyes. "You should _not_ be here."

 

"I was gonna go home-"

 

"I don't wanna hear it."

 

Peter rambles on, ignoring the man's words together. "But it was such a long way down and I just kinda stuck to the side of the ship and this suit is _ridiculously_ intuitive by the way so if anything it's kinda _your_ fault that I'm here."

 

Once again, Tony's head snaps up to give his best pare talk glare at the kid's implication. "What did you just say?"

 

"I-I take that back." Peter's eyes flit around the ship quickly to avoid his gaze. "And now I'm in a spaceship."

 

Tony stalks forward so their only inches apart. "Yeah. Right where I didn't want you to be." He drops his voice to a low tone. "This isn't Coney Island or some field trip- this is a one way ticket. You hear me? Don't pretend you thought this through."

 

With that, Peter parks up his eyebrows. "I did think this through-"

 

"You could not have _possibly_ -"

 

"I did think this through!" Peter insists, getting up into Tony's face. "You can't be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if there's no neighborhood." He pauses and blushes before meeting Tony's eyes again. "That didn't really make sense but you know what I'm trying to say."

 

Of course Tony gets it. But why does it have to be _his_ kid that gets bloodied and bruised? Peter shouldn't be the one pleading his mentor to fight in a war he doesn't understand. Tony had worked far too hard at keeping this information away from the kid for him to have disobeyed and _followed_ Tony into space. As he looks into those big brown eyes full of youth and sparkle, he can't be mad. Tony would have done the same thing.

 

He slaps the kid’s back and pulls him into his side, ignoring the way his heart pulls when Peter leans right in. Together, they discuss a plan that doesn’t make Tony want to wrap the boy in bubble-wrap and turn the whole ship around.

 

After saving Strange, and arguing with Strange- really, who does that guy think he _is_ \- Tony is exhausted. He watches the kid crawl across the ceiling of the ship, and yelling at him to get down when he foot slips, then having Strange yell at Peter for the same thing. It haunts Tony; working with someone that doesn't have the priority of keeping each other safe. Even above surfing his goal is to send Peter back home no matter how he has to do it. So you can imagine being ambushed and seeing a big, metal gun pressed against that very kid's head defeats the purpose.

 

"Everybody stay where you are! Chill the eff out!" The big guy yells, his forearm pressing against Peter's neck.

 

Tony's blood boils as he stops down on the guy guy beneath him.

 

"I'm gonna ask you this one time…" The guy says slowly, circling his gun at them. "Where is Gamora?"

 

Tony knows the distress is plain as day on his face as he retract his face mask. "I'll do you one better, who's Gamora?"

 

"I'll do you one better!" The blue guy grunts. "Why is Gamora?"

 

Collectively, they ignore him which is nice. Tony has had enough stupidity for one day.

 

"Tell me where the girl is or I swear to you, I'm gonna french fry this little freak."

 

White, hot, searing anger as the gun digs into Peter's temple. Even with the mask it'll leave a mark and Tony wants this guy _dead._ All of them.

 

"Let's do it, you shoot my kid and I'll blast him." Tony wills the most pain inducing gun he could think of harnessing. "Let's go!" Watching Peter squirm has his own skin crawling.

 

Tony watches the rest of the scene play out, let's out the breath he's been holding when the big guy let's go of Peter. The kid stumbles into Tony, breathing far too heavily for his liking.

 

He runs a gentle hand down Peter's spine as the kid breathes hot puffs of air into his neck. His head lays heavily on Tony's shoulder, hands finding little purchase against the metal shoulders of the suit.

Tony shushed Peter gently. "Its okay, I got you. We're all fine, see? Scary doctor is staring at us as we speak."

 

Strange rolls his eyes. "He's probably fine, just adrenaline crash."

 

Again, Tony traces circles around the boy's tense shoulders. He lets his head rest against Peter's. "You're an Avenger now, kid." He whispers.

 

Peter nods once and Tony feels his fingers tighten. They stand there until Peter gets droopy and Tony's back aches from the weight. They sit silently next to each other, pressed side-to-side. Tony watches alertly while Peter snores in his ear. Nothing can happen to this kid, because Tony knows he won't survive it.

 

 

_5._

 

 

“Mister Stark?”

 

 _Oh God, oh God. Not him, please. Anyone but him._ Tony turns around, wide-eyed with fear coursing through his entire body. He feels his own breath pick up, chest heaving. The pain in his abdomen is nowhere near the pain he’s going to feel.

 

Peter’s eyes are glued to the ground and they’re filling quickly with tears. He wobbles towards the man after he says, “I don’t feel so good.”

 

“You’re alright.” Tony says quickly, an effort to comfort himself more than the dying boy.  He stands there, stunned as the beginning of dust particles slowly make their way off of Peter’s body.

 

Their eyes lock and paternal despair runs through him again. “I don’t- I don’t know what’s happening.” Tony knows he’s about to lose the only son he’ll ever know.

 

They collide. Tony struggles with the weight at first but Peter is making a vain attempt to stand. He makes sure his hold on the boy is tight, tight enough to hold him together. _Please not him,_ he thinks over and over. _Anyone but him._

 

As if his heart could break anymore, Peter lets out sobs against his chest. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go. Sir please, please. I don’t wanna go.”

 

Tony’s words catch in his throat before they come out. He’s holding back his own tears as the boy grips tightly, like if he does he won’t fall apart.

 

“I don’t _wanna_ go.”

 

Peter’s legs collapse beneath them, making them both crash to the ground. Tony drags his fingers through the kid’s hair and can do nothing but watch. He is a bystander in his own tragedy. He looks at him through watery lashes and red-rimmed eyes.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Tony’s hands hit the rock of where the kid used to be. His hands are covered in dirt- _ash._ They’re _Peter’s ashes_. If there was anything in Tony’s stomach it would have come right back up. His heart hurts in a way it never has; he lost a child he couldn’t even claim to be his. A tear falls down his cheek and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

 

 

_6._

 

 

Peter. The kid is right in front of him but he’s- _why is he crying?_ Tony did this all for him. Did all of it; time travel, that is.

 

“Hey, Mister Stark.” Peter says with a shaky voice. He’s trembling everywhere and there’s blood dripping from various cuts on his face. His eyes are puffy and tears are mixing with blood on his swollen cheeks. Tony looks up at him and wants to smile.

 

The kid grips the armor and nearly falls trying to get closer. “Mister Stark, can you hear me?”

 

With some of his remaining strength, he lifts a weak arm and cups the boys cheek with his hand, causing a sob to bubble in his chest. Peter pushes into it and holds it there with his own hand, fingers nimbley curling around his own.

 

“It’s Peter.”

 

He can’t answer, but Tony hopes Peter knows he’s listening. He wants to pull the kid into an embrace and _never_ let go again. He hopes with this one look, all the love and affection Tony feels will be passed on to Peter. Every tear that falls on the kid’s cheek is a bullet put through Tony’s own chest. He tries to wipe one away but Peter’s hand is clutching too tightly- he’s not complaining. It’s the second best feeling he’s had all day, first to the hug he finally got. He’ll think of it as he drifts away.

 

“I’m sorry, Tony. I’m sorry.”

 

Peter is being pulled away and Tony takes one more glance before it’s Pepper. He feels so much love, it crashes through him like a tidal wave. His family is safe, and that’s all Tony could hope for when he’s gone.

 

_Pepper’s kiss, Rhodey’s laugh, Morgan’s smile, Peter’s hugs._

 

 

_plus 1._

 

 

“Are we there yet?.” Peter says as soon as the door is closed and they’re alone. There’s a small tremor in his lips and he sounds ready to burst into tears.

 

The words feel heavy in the air between them, an awkwardness where there once was peace stings Tony’s nostrils. He watches Peter’s eyes gloss over, expression of sadness never wavering. His hands shake with years of trauma he shouldn't have.

 

If it were anyone else in front of him, he might’ve made a joke, chidded them for crying over him- but this is Peter. _His kid,_ Peter. Tony didn’t even deserve to poke fun at pain that he caused others, _especially_ Peter. God, _Peter._ The name felt foreign on his tongue after drunkenly crying it yet shying away from it while sober. Tony’s lips twitch upward.

 

Finally, Tony pats the seat next to him. “We’ve been there, kid.”

 

Peter practically falls forward, his feet obviously moving on autopilot as he drops himself onto the hospital bed. He’s still careful not to move any of the wires attached to Tony which the man desperately wants to yank off. His heart positively aches as Peter lets out low whines and bites his lips to hold in his sobs as his hands clutch the gown so tightly the thread tears.

 

Tony coos at Peter much like he would Morgan. He runs his hand through his greasy hair and wipes a few tears away. He answers Peter’s cries with feather-light kisses to his head which drag out the boy’s sobs even more. Tony shushes the kids when he chokes and runs a flat palm down his spine. It hurts. This hurts. His own painful tears fall into the crown of Peter’s head. He did this- Tony did this to him, so Tony will hold Peter until his sobs die back down to whimpers and twitches.

 

Peter’s head is heavy against his good shoulder, arms still tight around Tony’s body. His eyes are half-lidded and limbs are lethargic. Tony lets his head rest against Peter’s taut with sweat. The distress took a lot out of both of them. Tony doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon and by the feel of it, neither does Peter.

 

“Pete,” Tony whispers, nudging the kid’s head with his own, “look at me for a sec.”

 

Their eyes meet, rid-rimmed and drooping, dull brown eyes with exhaustion. “Yeah, Mister Stark? Are- Am I crushing you? I should have-”

 

Tony’s arm tightens in response. “I love you, kid. So damn much.”

 

Peter lets out a watery laugh. “I love you too, old man.”

  
“ _Hey!_ ”


End file.
